


Ruby Red

by meiloslyther



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco, The Young Veins
Genre: Fighting, M/M, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-20
Updated: 2009-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 10:18:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiloslyther/pseuds/meiloslyther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan hates Guitar Hero. Brendon hates being fucked with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruby Red

**Author's Note:**

> I actually bounced this idea around with a friend for a good while before writing it. It seemed like a good idea at the time. *shrug* Also written back when I knew very little about bandom, so if something doesn't make sense... just pay attention to the porn, 'kay? XD

'Home sweet home,' I thought as we stepped into the cabin. Our home, our little haven of peace and solitude. The tour was finally over, and it was definitely time to relax.

"Hey, you guys wanna go up to the arcade or the mall or something?" Jon asked, throwing his bag against the far wall. He wasn't quite as keen on the whole 'solitude' idea as the rest of us were.

"We just got here," I replied, beginning to unpack.

"I'll go," Spencer piped up.

Brendon grinned deviously. "Sweet, I've got Guitar Hero all to myself!"

"Oh no, take him with you guys, please," I groaned. Brendon wasn't bad at Guitar Hero - in fact, he was better than the rest of us - but he played the damn game all the fucking time.

Jon and Spencer gave me apologetic looks as they ditched us at home.

"C'mon, Ryan, you know you like it."

I could only hang my head.

***

After only two whole days, I was so tired of hearing 'Miss Murder' and 'Through the Fire and Flames' and 'Welcome to the Jungle,' I was contemplating forcefully removing my own ears with a rusty knife.

But I quickly conjured up a slightly less dramatic solution.

That afternoon, Brendon and I were left alone again, and he was - of course - playing that wretched game. I talked to him for a while, but he was fairly preoccupied and didn't talk back a whole lot. I pretended to fall asleep on the couch after a bit and suffered through god knows how many more hours of Brendon furiously attacking the little plastic guitar before he went to bed.

When I was sure he was gone, I got up and grabbed the guitar controller and hid it where Brendon would never find it; under my bed.

I slept peacefully that night.

***

"Ryan, fuck you, man. Where's the guitar?"

I groaned and tried to open my eyes, but someone had turned the lights on and it burned.

"Ryan, what did you do with the guitar?"

"What are you talking about?" I muttered, trying to get my eyes to adjust.

"The Guitar Hero controller. Where did you put it?"

My eyes finally stopped stinging and I could see Brendon's face, a little too close to be friendly. He was mad, all right.

"I didn't put it anywhere," I lied.

"Bullshit, Ross, you were the last one in there. Now tell me where it is!"

"I'm telling you, I didn't do anything. Did you ask Jon or Spence?"

Brendon gave me a look that could kill and grabbed my slim neck, pressing down against my throat. I quickly regretted messing with him; would he really kill me over some video game?

"Tell me where it is, or this won't end pretty."

I was beginning to struggle for breath and I tried to get him off of me any way I could. I finally managed to knee him in the stomach, setting him off balance where I could push him away.

He landed on the floor with a thump and I immediately attempted to get away. As I stepped over him, he tripped me and I fell on my stomach. I quickly flipped over to keep from being vulnerable, but he straddled my chest and went straight for my face.

I tried to defend myself as best I could with Brendon literally on top of me, but he had an admirable advantage over me. I eventually got a decent right hook in to his jaw and knocked him off to the side. I took my chance then, unconsciously going into offensive mode.

We rolled around on the ground for a while then, each of us trying to get the upper hand. My heart pounded in my ears with adrenaline, my lip stinging from Brendon's sadistic pummeling, my blood on his knuckles and I knew my nose was bleeding. A spot on Brendon's jaw was beginning to bruise, a cut from my ring dripping his own blood down his cheek, and another trickle of his ruby red blood had rolled down his upper lip from his nose. My vision had gone blurry and blackened around the edges, but Brendon's face was vivid - he was all I could see.

When he finally pinned my wrists to the floor, the both of us were gasping for breath and covered in blood and sweat. He glared at me with a fierceness I had only seen in those big brown eyes once before.

Suddenly, his face fell and a somewhat shocked expression replaced his sneer. That's when I noticed it too; my cock was straining against my boxer briefs which, fortunately or unfortunately I couldn't decide, was all that I happened to be wearing.

When I realized he was hard too, he already had me flipped over on my stomach and was hastily removing my underwear.

"Maybe this will teach you not to fuck with me," Brendon muttered in his scary deep voice as he entered me. No preparation. No lube. Nothing.

I screamed.

"Shut up, you little slut," he growled, slapping me in the back of the head. Nowhere near the ferocity of his earlier punches, but it still hurt. What I couldn't understand was why it hurt so _good_.

My scalp tingled as he pulled my hair, gripping my shoulder nearly to death with his other hand. His breath came out in sharp gusts against the back of my neck with each vicious thrust, his t-shirt was rough against my bare back and it was beginning to chafe.

A rather wanton moan escaped my lips and I gasped at myself in surprise. 'I don't even like Brendon this way...' I thought, but I quickly realized that it was a lie. 'Oh man, is this amazing...'

"You wanted this, didn't you, Ryan?" Brendon whispered in my ear as I clawed at the scraggly carpet, and by now all I could reply with were colorful strings of half-unintelligible curses and pitiful noises only a girl should make. "You wanted me to hurt you. It gets you off, doesn't it?" he added, the inflection in his voice showing his interest and he dug his nails further into my shoulder, pulled even harder at my hair for emphasis. "That's why you hid the guitar under your bed, isn't it?"

Without warning, he pulled out and flipped me over on my back, my shoulders and hips thudding against the hard concrete under the carpet. Not even hesitating for a second, he ripped off his shirt and entered me again, resuming his bruising pace.

The fire from earlier had left his eyes, but now there was a new kind of fire. The kind that forced girlish cries from my throat, forced my thin legs to wrap around Brendon's solid waist, forced my arms around his shallow ribcage as if he were a life preserver, for I was drowning.

I was drowning in Brendon's fire - his lust - and there was no way I could survive.

The only sounds I could hear above my own racing heart, my own desperate cries and screams of ecstasy, were Brendon's breathy gasps. His hands were all over me, sliding over my sweat slicked skin, and suddenly they were on my face, my cheeks, and his lips were on mine in a passionate, frenzied kiss, and I was moaning, screaming, louder than ever.

I came clutching at his soaked hair, yelling his name with breath I didn't have, my eyes stinging from the tears of it hurting and feeling oh so good all at once. My heavy head crashing to the floor, I nearly passed out from exertion.

I vaguely remember him grabbing my hips and thrusting hard and fast for a few more seconds until he came as well, letting out a choked cry of his own.

We laid there for what seemed like forever, his chin resting perfectly in the cleft of my shoulder, my fingers still entangled in his dripping wet hair.

"You knew where it was the whole time," I breathed after a while.

He nodded into my neck, a soft sigh making his back rise and fall.

I wasn't quite sure what to say. "...Why?" I asked finally, shaking my head a little.

"I... I guess I've always had a little part of me that wanted, even dreamed of raping you... just a little... but I never thought..."

I let out a breathy laugh and kissed the side of his head. He never was too great with words; that's why I was the lyricist instead of him. "Next time, all you have to do is ask."

Brendon sat up on his elbows to look down at me. "But then you'd be willing. I can't rape you if you're willing, you know."

I grinned, pulling him back down to whisper in his ear. "I could always tell you no."


End file.
